


The Lost City

by CompletelyLegitUsername



Category: Original Work
Genre: Action, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Violence, F/F, Gore, Gun Violence, Lesbian Character, Post-Apocalypse, Post-Nuclear War, Revenge, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-08
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:29:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27454276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyLegitUsername/pseuds/CompletelyLegitUsername
Summary: Surviving in a post-nuclear wasteland isn't easy. Elanor Pheonix knows this better than anyone around her. The harsh reality was that if you weren't smart, if you weren't strong, and if you weren't lucky, you would die. She never considered herself lucky, though. It seemed like everyone she ever cared about would surely end up dead. Often, it was the fault of one man: her father. When Elanor learns where he may be hiding, she arms herself up and begins to hunt him down, desperate for revenge.Joined by three companions- young and naïve Abigail Berklin, old and experienced Steve Mayor, and a dog named Bubba, Elanor will travel across the southern United States in an effort to find her father and kill him, hoping to end the misery he's caused her once and for all.
Relationships: Elanor Pheonix/Abigail Berklin, OC/OC





	1. Prologue

Elanor ran. Her short legs pumped as her body violently jerked around, bobbing and weaving through any obstacle in her way. Her breaths were short and shallow, filling her tiny lungs and emptying them just as quickly. Sweat dripped down her face, the hot summer sun beating down on her.

She ran through a doorway, pausing only to slam the door shut and bar it. She knew it wouldn’t hold forever, but it would still hopefully give her enough time to get away. 

Spinning around, something caught her eye. Amongst all of the dead bodies, riddled with slashes and cuts, lay one still holding on to a weapon. Taking a closer look, she realized the corpse was that of her neighbor, John Alexander. Her heart sunk down to her stomach as she realized that if he was dead, his family must have been as well. Judging by the deep gouging in the man’s neck, it likely wasn’t pretty, either.

A pounding on the door shook Elanor away from her thoughts. Taking a nervous gulp, the eleven-year-old girl approached the body. Still in the hand of her former neighbor was a Maxwell 9m. Fighting back tears, Elanor pried the dead man’s cold fingers off of the small caliber handgun. Lifting the gun up, she noted how heavy it felt. She trembled with the gun in her hands, still trying hard to fight back tears as the banging on the door continued.

_ Remember what Mama taught you _ , she reminded herself. Checking to make sure that the safety was off, she was both relieved and frightened to find that it was. She pulled back the slide lightly, noticing that there was already a bullet in the chamber. Finally, she checked the magazine. It was still full.  _ He didn’t even get a chance to defend himself _ , Elanor lamented in her head.

The young girl trembled as she turned to face the door. Shakily, she held the pistol out in front of her. She let out a small whimper as the pounding on the door got louder and louder. She flinched as she heard cracking in the wall, telling her that the bar would fall out soon.

“Stop! I have a gun! I’ll shoot you!” the young blonde girl cried. Her high-pitched voice showed fear, through and through, but she didn’t waver. Unfortunately, neither did her pursuer. “I mean it!”

It didn’t take long to break the bar holding the door closed off of the wall. The door swung open, hitting the wall so hard it nearly fell off of its hinges. Elanor didn’t waste a second. She squeezed the trigger and fired the gun directly ahead of her. The loud pop left her ears ringing, and she lowered the gun in favor of rubbing her head.

When Elanor finally was able to look back up, she noticed that her pursuer was no longer standing. Instead, he lay in the doorway, clutching his left shoulder. His messy black hair was stained with red, and a combat knife lay not too far from where he fell.

“I’m sorry… Papa,” Elanor whimpered. She pointed her gun at her father’s chest, squeezing her eyes shut, she pulled the trigger again, ending the scene with a loud  _ bang _ .


	2. A Warm Awakening

21-year-old Elanor Pheonix woke up with a start. Taking a few deep breaths, she worked to calm herself down. Groggily, the young woman looked around at her surroundings, recalling where she was. A dilapidated old bus on the interstate housed her, the morning sun shining through the broken windows to wake her up. She grumbled to herself about it, the midwest sun already hot in the morning. She hated summers.

Wrapping her hand around her pistol, a trusty custom Glock 17 with an affixed laser sight, Elanor sat up. She peered all around outside, looking through the windows. Seeing that she was alone, she set the gun down.

From within her bag, Elanor pulled a bottle of whiskey. Taking off her rebreather, she unscrewed the cap and took a swig of her liquid courage. It burned her throat, giving her the wake-up call she needed. She sighed as she held the bottle in her hand and stared at it for almost a minute.

“You’ll be the death of me yet, Jack,” she commented to no one but herself. Letting out another sigh, she screwed the cap back onto the bottle and hid it away in her bag again. She stood up and stretched herself out, feeling the blood pump through her muscles to wake her body up before re-equipping her rebreather.

Elanor sat down to put her armor on. Sliding her knee pads on, then her combat apron, then her elbow pads, and finally, her wrist PDA, the woman began to feel more and more safe. She swung her bag over her shoulders and holstered her pistol before grabbing her primary weapon- a scoped Scar-H with an attached laser and flashlight. Holding it in an at-ease position, Elanor stepped out of the pre-war vehicle she had been using for shelter.

The woman fiddled with the device on her arm for a bit until a radio came crackling to life. The noise emanated from the thing on her arm, adding some noise other than the warm summer wind blowing by. Content with her new background noise, she began to walk down the road.

“-saying that a mutant encampment has been spotted near Wichita. It’s highly advised that everyone stay away from the city for the time being. Once again, the FBC has issued a report saying that there is a mutant encampment near Wichita. Stay safe out there, folks. Now, let’s warm the morning up a bit more with some relaxing music. This is _Route Around_ , made by Rebulation before the world, you know, died out,” a smooth voice crackled through the radio.

Elanor smirked to herself. _The FBC is either lying or stupid. If there were mutants in Wichita, I would’ve seen them_ , she thought. She shared a bitter laugh with herself as she walked, the sweltering heat beating down on her much the same as it had all those years ago.

A busted sign on the side of the road told Elanor that she should check her map, an idea that she took to heart. Still walking, she slung her Scar over her shoulder and produced a map and marker from her bag. Using the marker to draw how far along she was, Elanor figured she had just crossed the Kansas-Oklahoma border, and that she was roughly halfway to Perry. From there, she knew she needed to head south, still, to Oklahoma City, then west to Amarillo, Texas, and finally, south from there to Lubbock.

Lubbock, Texas would be Elanor’s final destination, as evidenced by a circle around it on her map. She’d need to stop and scavenge in Perry, which was reportedly abandoned, stock up in Oklahoma City, stop and rest in Amarillo, and finally be on her way. If she were lucky, she could find a still-working vehicle and cut down her trip’s time by a lot, but she didn’t ever really consider herself lucky.

As she walked, she heard a noise above the radio. A soft humming from behind her growing closer and closer. She looked up, using her map to block the sun from her eyes, and saw an old fighter jet passing overhead.

“Be so much easier if I had one of those,” Elanor sighed. She placed the map and marker back in her bag and unslung her rifle again.

It had been hours of walking, yet Elanor felt like she was still no closer to Perry. She stopped around what she guessed was noon to fill up with a stick of beef jerky and a bottle of Atom Kick, a stop that lasted maybe 15 minutes, but after that, she was back on the road.

As she walked, thinking of her frustration, something caught her attention. She switched her radio off and took cover behind one of the many old cars scattered across the old highway. As she listened, she could make out three voices.

“Just shoot the damn thing,” the first voice spoke. It was deep, gruff, and masculine, no doubt a threat if an enemy.

“But… it’s a dog,” the second spoke. This one, while still male, was much higher and younger sounding.

“So what? The owner’s dead, not like he can get revenge on you for it,” the third voice spoke. Elanor recognized that this one was female.

Elanor knew she needed to play this smart. If these were hostile people, she couldn’t just walk up and introduce herself like they were old friends. If they weren’t she didn’t want to shoot them and kill innocent people.

She took a look at her surroundings. Scattered along the ground of the old, dusty interstate were chunks of concrete that had broken up due to years of heat exposure and neglect. Elanor picked up a small piece as she looked above the car’s hood. She spotted another car a bit farther down that would be perfect. Mustering as much strength as she could, Elanor chucked the old piece of concrete at the car before quickly ducking back down. A loud _thud_ was heard at the same time.

“What was that?” the second voice practically screamed.

“Must’ve been another person,” the third replied.

Unsurprisingly, it was the first voice that took charge. “Fan out and find whoever made that noise. When you do, kill ‘em!”

 _So, they’re hostile_ , Elanor decided. Quietly, she flicked her rifle’s safety off and began to move closer to the group, still crouching. Taking cover behind cars, she was eventually able to circle around them. Wasting no time, Elanor burst a few bullets into each of their skulls, dropping the trio with satisfying _splat_ s.

Now alone, or so she thought, Elanor stood up and slung her rifle over her back. Stepping out to where they were, Elanor noted another dead body on the ground, and a dog whimpering not so far away from it. It didn’t take much deliberation for her to decide what she wanted to do. Taking some of the leftover beef jerky she had earlier, Elanor crouched down and offered it to the dog.

The canine graciously accepted the food, as well as some pets upon the head. For the first time in what felt like a long time, Elanor found herself smiling. That happiness was short-lived, though, as she felt something yank her back by her ponytail. She hit the ground only to see the barrel of a shotgun aimed directly at her.

It was, she assumed, the first man she heard. Older, gruff, and bleeding from the head. He was completely missing an eye, something he was clearly angry about. The position wasn’t held for long, though, as the dog jumped on the older man. Elanor quickly got up and unholstered her pistol. Holding it boldly with one hand, she placed a bullet in the man’s forehead. The dog let go of the man and rubbed up against Elanor’s leg.

“Bet that felt good for you, huh?” Elanor spoke to the dog, earning a bark in response. She bent down to pet it again as she spoke. “Why don’t you come with me, huh?” The dog responded positively, jumping up and giving Elanor’s face a lick.

Elanor stood up, feeling more confident now that she had a new traveling companion. She turned to face south again, knowing she still had a long trip ahead of her, and with newfound determination, she began to walk, a new canine friend by her side.


	3. Perry

Perry, Oklahoma was smaller than Elanor expected. Standing on the outskirts of the city, the dog by her side, whom she had taken to calling Bubba, Elanor felt larger than she’d ever been before. It was late, dark, and she was tired, but she felt accomplished.

“Whaddya say we find somewhere to rest for the night, huh, Bubba?” she cooed, giving the dog a few scratches on the ear. Bubba gave a soft bark in the affirmative and leaned into the scratches.

Flicking on the light attached to her gun, Elanor took the first step into the town. She scanned for any signs of life, not finding any immediately. Her gander around let her take in the sights, even in the dark. The ruins, the old, decrepit buildings, weakened from nuclear war and years of neglect, were almost poetically beautiful. A reminder of humanity’s past mistakes.

Broken glass, scattered bricks, and stone littered the ground, serving as no more than empty memories. Elanor inadvertently kicked a bottle as she walked the empty streets, passing under a fallen traffic light. No noises sounded in response as the empty bottle rolled down the street. To her right, an old car was crashed into a storefront, the only evidence it was ever used being an old, charred skeleton in the driver’s seat.

Bubba followed Elanor closely behind, sniffing along the ground as he walked. He seemed to just be happy to have a person with him, willing to follow his companion anywhere. He trotted up to stay next to his new person, walking in pace with her.

The young woman peered inside one of the old buildings along the street. It appeared to be some sort of clothing store.  _ None of these clothes look practical at all _ , Elanor thought, scanning her eyes over the rows of dresses, skirts, and suits. Still, it was the first fully-intact building she had come across, so that warranted some measure of investigation. Cautiously, she approached the old store’s door.

The door was, at one point, clearly made of glass. That point was long passed, as broken shards were strewn about either side. Taking her hand out from under the grip of her gun, Elanor applied pressure to the door. It took a few pushes, but sure enough, the door came creaking open.

Elanor brought her hand back to support her gun as she stepped inside. The interior was dark, the only illumination coming from her attached flashlight. Careful to be quiet, the young woman walked slowly inside the old building. She figured that something like this would be either terrifying or heartbreaking for someone who knew what the city had looked like before the war. Fortunately, she wasn’t one of those people.

Elanor’s light crossed the room as she looked around until it fell upon a door. It was behind a counter towards the back of the store. Squaring up and taking a defensive stance, she crossed over to it, walking around the counter once she got to it.

Bubba, sensing his person tensing up, took a defensive stance himself. He jumped up onto the counter, directly opposite the door, and crouched down, preparing to run if needed. He locked eyes with his person before turning back to face the door.

Carefully, taking cover behind the wall, Elanor pushed the door open. A puff dust was all that exited the room. She mentally counted to three, giving herself as many seconds to prepare herself. Once her count was up, the woman pushed herself off of the wall to face the room and aimed her gun, all in one fluid motion. As her light shined into the room, she took in its features.

The room looked like it was meant to be some sort of office before the war. A desk was set up in the corner of the room with a computer that surely didn’t work anymore. It was devoid of life of any kind and covered in a thick layer of dust. As she stepped inside, dust kicked up around her, obscuring her view ever so slightly.

On the floor, Elanor saw, was a bedroll. It clearly hadn’t been used in some time, being coated itself. Still, it was a place where she could sleep for the night. She crouched down and patted her hand upon the old makeshift bedding, brushing the dust off of it. It kicked up into the air, making Elanor glad she kept her rebreather on.

A noise from outside the building caught Elanor’s attention. It was hard to discern exactly what it could have been. If she had to wager, she would guess that it was the sound of crashing into something.

“Bubba,” the woman spoke quietly, catching her companion’s attention. “Let’s check that out, boy.” The dog panted in understanding, hopping down off of the counter. Elanor approached the door quietly, looking around. Switching her Scar’s laser sight on as well, she crouched and stepped outside.

The streets looked just as empty as when she had left them. The cars looked as abandoned as before, the buildings just as decrepit and broken, the street just as cracked. It looked as if no one had set foot in this town for at least 40 years.

“Bubba, can you get a scent?” Elanor whispered to her dog. Bubba, in turn, tilted his head before crouching to start sniffing at the ground. The canine’s acute nose didn’t take long to pick up on an oddity. He stood up and pointed himself down an alleyway opposite of him and his person.

“Good boy,” Elanor said with a smile, giving her dog a few rewarding pets. She then turned toward the alley, a narrow path in between two buildings. One of the buildings, she noted, was entirely missing its north wall, the one facing the alleyway.

Boots crunched against the ground as Elanor moved slowly towards the pathway. As she got closer, she began to make out other noises. Panting, wincing, and sharp breathing were audible from inside the destroyed building. A sudden yelp of pain drew the woman to the noise quicker. She rounded the corner and came face to face with another person.

“Wait! Don’t shoot!” a feminine voice cried. Elanor kept her gun trained on the figure, who had her hands thrown into the air. A bleeding gash was visible in the stranger’s left arm, and a shard of glass was sticking loosely out of the right leg. “Please, don’t shoot me! I’m not gonna take anything from you! I was just trying to get across to the next building over, but I fell and got hurt.”

Elanor lowered her gun and approached the stranger. “What’s your name?” she inquired as she stepped closer to get a better look.

“Abigail. I’m alone, so you don’t have to worry about an ambush. And I’m only 19, so I still have a lot I’d like to live for,” the girl pleaded.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. Let me see your leg,” Elanor replied calmly. She crouched down to be at eye level with the stranger, clad in a gas mask and hoodie, obscuring her face entirely. Elanor set her bag down and pulled out some bandages. “This might hurt a bit,” she warned.

Bracing the stranger’s leg with one hand, Elanor set her rifle down and carefully gripped the piece of glass with her other. She began to pull, a sickening squelch sounding as she removed the sharp shard. Once she was done with that, she wrapped the girl’s leg and arm wounds.

“Thank you, miss… uh…” the girl in front of Elanor trailed off.

“Pheonix. Elanor Pheonix,” the young woman replied. “Come on, let’s get you laid down somewhere. We don’t want to be out in the open at night.”

“Right. Thanks Elanor,” the girl replied as Elanor helped her up. The woman could hear the smile in the girl’s voice.

“Save it. We’ll talk more tomorrow. For now, let’s just get you some rest,” Elanor replied decisively as she began to walk the girl back over to the old clothing store.


End file.
